Back in the Shed

I've been writing daily since St. David's Day, and I will likely put up some posts to prove it. The only exception was yesterday,  a day where the flu laid me out and had me sleeping on the red ("sleeping") couch for hour after hour. After hour.

But as the title of this post suggests, I am back in the shed. This is to say that I am back to spending time in my shed in which to write. It's still cold, but not as cold as it has been. This last winter, we've had no heat in the house apart from costly space heaters, strategically placed and used as sparingly as we could bear, which meant waking to 56 degrees in the hallway many mornings. So I suppose a chilly writer's shed, even in the rain (like now) is better than that.

Besides which, between the audiobooks and physical books I've been reading of late and the knowledge that in a few weeks I'll be on my way to AWP, I am compelled to (re-re-re, always re-) think of myself as a writer. Who, you know, writes.  

Dream of doing something meaningful in the scheme of things. Act accordingly.